Dry Cleaning
by SlightlySpacey
Summary: It was, Byakuya admitted, a rather stupid decision. Byakuya faces his greatest challenge yet; stains on his scarf!


Dry Cleaning

It was, Byakuya decided, a rather stupid decision.

Yes, his fukitaichou had fought well, and his bankai was no doubt impressive, though still in need of improvement. And not many shinigami could survive Byakuya's own bankai, let alone get back up and attempt to continue fighting afterwards. Renji's actions were commendable, and Byakuya was obviously not snobbish enough to deny him the respect he deserved.

But, honestly, what madness drove him to rest his own priceless scarf on the bloody, mangled body of his fukitaichou? Of course, had the blood and gore been absent, there would be no problems, but… The stains! The horrendous, treacherous stains that absolutely refused to come off!

Buakuya scowled as he turned his precious scarf over in his hands, examining the blood stains that apparently wouldn't come off in the wash. After he had returned to his manor from the fourth division office once he had finished healing, he had noticed his scarf neatly folded up on his bedside dresser with an apology note that had rambled about how the stains simply wouldn't come off the scarf no matter how many times the servants tried to wash it, and that they were very very sorry and would accept any punishment Byakuya deemed appropriate.

After finishing the note, Byakuya's reiatsu had risen to such a frightening amount that most small children within a two mile radius started crying.

None of the servants seemed to have the courage to approach the noble about the matter either; in fact, the majority of them had called in "sick" and had taken refuge at home. Which left Byakuya without any means of cleaning his scarf. Having never washed an article of clothing before in his life, he decided it would be unwise to attempt to wash the scarf himself. Perhaps if he folded it slightly differently from the usual way, no one would notice the stains… After attempting to do so, however, he realized this was futile.

Byakuya was on the verge of tearing his own hair out in frustration, but to do so would be very un-noble-like, so he refrained. Rather, he chose to pace around his office, practically treading a hole in the wood floor as he did so.

"Something the matter, taichou?"

Byakuya grit his teeth at the sound of the voice and slowly turned to the source. "Abarai. What do you want?" Perhaps his voice was a bit harsh, but at the time he couldn't be bothered with such trivial matters. His scarf was far more important.

Renji, meanwhile, seemed quite amused by Byakuya's behavior; he was resting against the doorframe and wore an arrogant smirk that seemed even more obnoxious today than usual. Byakuya's eyes flickered briefly to opening of Renji's yukata, which seemed to be exposing more tattoo than usual.

"You seem upset about something." Byakuya averted his gaze back to Renji's face, where his smirk seemed to have grown even wider. "Something I can help you with?" Byakuya could have sworn his fukitaichou's eyebrows had waggled slightly with that last comment.

Byakuya frowned. He had noticed a slight behavior change with his fukitaichou. Ever since Renji had visited him in the fourth division, his behavior had become increasingly laid-back, and, though perhaps Byakuya was simply paranoid, seemed to suggest some kind of sexual innuendo behind half of what he said.

"The only assistance you can give me is to complete the paperwork you have neglected to do for the past week," Byakuya replied tersely as he sat down at his desk. "Your recent laziness is unaccept-"

"Aww, but taichouuu," Renji whined dramatically as he sauntered into the room. He stopped in front of Byakuya's desk and propped his elbows on it, resting his head on his hands and putting his face a mere inches from Byakuya's own. "No one actually cares about the paperwork except you, you know. What's the deal?"

Byakuya frowned yet again as he took note how close his face was to his fukitaichou's. This was yet another peculiar habit Renji had gotten into lately; he seemed to have lost the concept of personal bubbles. Yet whenever Renji would stand a little too close to Byakuya, or when his hand would rest on Byakuya's shoulder for a bit too long, Byakuya for some reason found himself unable to scold the younger shinigami.

"Quite the contrary, actually," Byakuya replied to Renji's inquiry. "The majority of the captains recognize the importance of – Don't touch that."

Renji ignored his captain as he reached to the side of the desk to pick up the scarf Byakuya was currently angsting over. "What's with the stains?"

"It's your fault," Byakuya accused, and then realized he had sounded rather childish. "My servants have been unable to remove them."

"Oh yeah," Renji's eyes lit up in recognition. "Kira told me how they found this over my almost-dead body after our fight. Really, taichou, I had no idea you could be such a nice guy."

"And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Renji said quickly. He turned the scarf over in his hands and added, "But I know this one place where they're good at this sort of thing. I could take this there for you if you want."

"I do not need your assistance," Byakuya said. "I am quite capable of dealing with this on my own."

"Oh, I can see that," Renji said snidely. Upon seeing Byakuya's near murderous expression, he dropped the scarf and raised his hands in surrender. "All right! Fine. Just trying to help out." He turned and ambled out the door. "Later, babe."

Byakuya blinked as his slightly frazzled brain cells processed Renji's departing words.

"Babe…?"

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Byakuya did not like mornings, especially after he had gotten less than two hours of sleep the night before because he couldn't stop thinking about his scarf, and could have sworn he had noticed someone's reiatsu nearby but was too tired to do anything about it.

Still extremely groggy, hair slightly unkempt, Byakuya managed to stumble to his office. Usually he would have a strong cup of tea in the morning, but none of the servants were available (he made a mental note to kill them all if they ever came back), and the last time he had tried to make tea himself he had set the stove on fire. So now he was without sleep and caffeine. It was not going to be a good day.

With a groan, Byakuya plopped down in front of his desk and looked over at his scarf.

Only to realize it was no longer there.

Suddenly quite panicky, Byakuya scanned the room for the item. Perhaps it had fallen off the desk? No. Had he put it in one of the drawers? No. Did he put it on the couch? No. Was it hanging from the ceiling fan? Of course not. But where…?

"Morning, sunshine."

Damn. Not now…

Renji smirked. "Well, aren't we bright and chipper this beautiful day?"

"Abarai." Byakuya took careful, controlled breaths. No panicking. Stay calm. "I do not have time for… Wait, is that…?"

Renji held up the scarf. "Well, since you were so stubborn about it, even though you obviously weren't going to be able to take care of it yourself, I took the liberty of taking it to the dry cleaners."

Byakuya snatched the scarf away from the other shinigami and held it up. Sure enough, there wasn't a stain to be seen. "Dry clean…?"

"Yeah, there's a really good dry cleaning place back in the 78th district," Renji explained. "Which is weird, because everything else is total shit. See? I told you I could take care of it."

"You fixed it," Byakuya said, completely awed by this magic called dry cleaning.

Renji rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. Honestly, if you weren't so stubborn-"

"Thank you."

Renji blinked, surprised by Byakuya's rare display of gratitude. Then he grinned as he slowly approached his taichou.

Byakuya, too distracted by his scarf, hadn't noticed Renji move until he felt strong arms wrapped around his midsection and realized Renji was standing right behind him.

"What-?" Renji was pressed right up against Byakuya's back. And that slight poking in his back better not have been what he thought it was…

"I can think of a better way you can thank me, Byakuya," Renji growled huskily in his ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. The younger shinigami's lips trailed down Byakuya's pale neck and nipped lightly at the area where neck and shoulder met. Byakuya tried and failed to suppress his cheeks from flaming red and felt an odd heat stir in his lower regions.

Before he could protest, or even think of what to say, Byakuya realized that Renji had already stridden confidently out the office.

Byakuya simply stood rooted to the spot as his body temperature slowly returned to almost normal. Shaking his head slightly and wondering if Soul Society had gone mad, he gracefully whirled his scarf around his neck and proceeded to continue with his paperwork.

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End file.
